Souls Black and Hidden
by Suzume Tori
Summary: **new chapter up** Regret can eat away at you till you begin to deteriorate physically, and the seventeenth angel is the cause of much remorse, for his parting was not such a sweet sorrow as others...
1. Mourning Song

Blood drips.  
  
Drop.  
  
Beads up.  
  
Dribbles down the whitened arm.  
  
Drip.  
  
It falls with small plinking noises into the puddle of water below. Spreading curling vermillion fingers into the surrounding liquid, it imprints its essence into the innocent rain.  
  
Blood.  
  
Hate. Twisted and running in rivulets down my arm, pulsing in fierce beats, scraping at me. Feeling its claws against me, shredding off bits of my soul and heart and stamping them into dust, I feel something like satisfaction.  
  
Drip.  
  
Trickle.  
  
Dribble.  
  
Scream. Scream for me. Wail for this lost little nobody in a cell of bars so thick that a diamond appears a pathetically soft medium, and so dark that every corner of Hell would quake at the shadowed, unending black contained within.  
  
Me.  
  
Me.  
  
Me.  
  
And I'm dripping into a puddle and turning it into a shattered, rippling mirror of scarlet. Shattered pieces of me.   
  
Me.   
  
Which is, of course, the last thing I want to see. Running a furious hand through the puddle, I can obliterate the image, but not the idea.  
  
I still am Me.  
  
Calming, the water regains it's cruel reflection. Perhaps, if you looked from the corner of your eyes, you would see my eyes encased in the ruby color.  
  
Like Kaworu's. Only my eyes are that of a traitor who sinks to his knees. Weak.   
  
I chew off some more flesh. Somehow, I can consume my cowardice. Which leaves me in a cell of my own hate. If I were anyone but Me. If Kaworu had been anyone but Tabris.   
  
WHY?  
  
Tell me, is this the existence you wished to save? What cruel soul would desire for such a broken mankind to survive? Or did you see something else that I never will?  
  
I can't ask you. No one could clamber as deep as you did into the structure of good and evil and come out sane. There is no way I will ever be able to comprehend your decisions and the true meaning of your will.  
  
Dizzily, I lean against the wall for the comfort that I need but don't deserve, and take another sip of my own substance, crimson blood oozing from the borders of my lips for my careless style of drinking. My naked tongue darts out to lap off more.  
  
My mouth observes what I have given it rather than dwell on speaking of unanswerable questions – it declares my blood tangy, salty, and pleasing, with the edge of metal.  
  
And I taste of fear, as well. 


	2. God upon Mercy

…  
.  
…  
.  
…deserted  
Drowned in burgundy-red, I find myself again, alone.  
  
Yes, God, I miss him. Do You like having him with You, up there? Were You jealous of one thing that mortals could posses – hate combined with pain, pure, truthful and unscientific, just becoming love, something against all odds and possibilities? What do You see?  
  
Have You ever felt the emotions of a human heart, or would it be rejected before You could, cast out of Your brilliance and yet somehow naïve perfection? Tell me, truthfully, have You ever experienced the life of a shadow, or was it obliterated by Your light?   
  
We are untouchable shadows.   
  
You took away my creature of light.  
  
Soft wings – could You ever feel such a physical sensation in Your spiritual heaven? Is it a sin to feel the pleasure of them against Your form – or do you even have a touchable form? Do You absorb all that come to You, turning them into a shapeless, nondescript part of one creation?  
  
You didn't take him away forever, did you?  
  
My clothes bear a cool sheen around them, and I am trapped within their shield against whatever warmth that still exists in the human world. Soaked with me.  
  
I never knew how cold I must have been. Was all of this so cold inside of me?  
  
In the end, is that all I am? A vat of unspeakable cold cowardice, who destroyed the only creature to touch him?  
  
Was it really my hand that killed him, after all, or was he consumed slowly by the lacking in my soul?  
  
I know, though, that it was me. I need to believe that his soul still exists, and as a separate entity from our undefined, enigmatic God.  
  
Please, let him remain.  
  
Let him remain.  
  
And no, life and death are not of equal value.   
  
Because without you, death is so much more preferable anyway.  
  
You have every idea. 


	3. From Hope's Wings

Warmth somehow remains with me, feeding my body. Perhaps I was so starved from someplace deep within where all the dissapointments and pain grew to tangle around my soul.  
  
Clear, gentle tears are the fuel behind the heat. Dead even as they rise to the surface, they still lend some undeserved relief to my frigid being.   
  
I am drowning in my own weakness, if nothing else. My wish may yet be granted and even now my insolent eyelids trickle out tears. Groping out with my hand from my strengthening shell for perhaps the last time, I fumble around for something to satisfy the part of me that refuses to die. Only cool stone and colder blood is found, and my childish fear intensifies.  
  
"You may bring one thing with you..."  
  
To heaven? Or to my uncle's house?   
  
I think I might have chosen the bike, at one point, just to prove I could get to heaven with it. That I didn't steal it. Riding the bike to my uncle's house had been unsucessful.  
  
My mind is going.  
  
Wandering.  
  
Traveling.  
  
Spinning.  
  
Collapsing.  
  
Along with my body, it is drained of substance and must shut down without nourishment. I...  
  
What am I going to bring with me? I want to bring something for him that was beautiful. Separate him from everyone else by showing him the bitter joy of a physical existance that none of the others had experienced.  
  
Something is pressing up against my hand. In the darkness of the corner, already hazed over by the shadow of death, I can not see it from here...  
  
Carefully, I lift my potential object into what remains of light...  
  
Snowy, lily-white, and utterly beautiful, some lost feather was deposited in this chamber in which I dwell. Somehow, it has remained unstained by the pooling blood, and it feels soft against my trembling fingertips. Probably some lost little girl is pouting over the loss of such a lovely specimen. But it is mine, now.  
  
Selfish. So human. Such is the nature of possesions. 


	4. As Reality Frays

I woke. Thousands of feathers crushed my body down, fluttering and tearing holes through my skin as no real feather could. The white softness felt like shards of glass, ripping flesh and pelting down. What world had I just escaped, that would abandon me to this cruel reality? What had I done for this? Who was I? Who had I been?  
  
And the feathers rained down relentlessly.  
  
The pain made me arch my back, which only brought myself closer to the falling feathers. My mouth opened to howl out anguish, but I found myself unable to.  
  
Why?  
  
And I had no tears. No outlet to express the pain. What was happening?  
  
Dim flickers haunted my vision - grey. Grey. His hair was grey. Red blood. Red eyes. Pattern blue.  
  
One lone feather struck my breast in such a way that it twisted into my heart. Whatever being had silenced me must have ceased, for I shrieked my need for mercy.  
  
"PLEASE! PLEASE!" I shuddered, huddling into myself as best I could, "Stop! Stop. Just. just." I choked as one speared my throat, and my eyes burned white with pain, "Just let me see him again."  
  
And then.  
  
I still do not understand what happened, just then. My sense of reality fissured - the feathers were falling, and my body was torn, but I could not feel the pain, nor numbness. I didn't feel anything - even the lack of feeling was not there. It just. wasn't.  
  
And, more importantly, Kaworu hovered above me.  
  
While I was slowly dissolving in this unexpected heaven, I caught his smile - wistful, almost. Definitely apologetic. Two white, white hands lowered slowly, outstretched towards me.  
  
"Are you all right?" Those sympathetic eyes, that soft smile, eased my soul like raindrops on dry, dry earth.  
  
For the first time in six years, I smiled.  
  
"Kaworu? Kaworu-kun? Is that you?" A soft tear trailed down my cheek, but was nothing compared to his blessedly soft fingers, which followed it, tracing the wet trail. A supple palm cupped my cheek, more gently than air, but with more. substance. More feel than air had.  
  
"I am here, as you wished for me to be." His arms trickled and snaked around me like water, till he was holding me closer than should have been possible. But this was impossible. I was floating, marred by feathers, being embraced by someone who had died because I had obeyed him in the one thing I should not have.  
  
Gently, Kaworu kissed each place where my skin was pierced, and I felt - not the pain - but the flutter of his lovely mouth over each imperfection. His eyes were peaceful, half-lidded and serene.  
  
If I burn forever for this moment, it will be worth it. The feathers are as they should be, now - just whispery, harmless white whirling around us.  
  
Six years of hell on earth for one moment of peace.  
  
It was worth it. 


	5. What do you deserve?

"Ask and you shall receive."  
  
Suddenly, Kaworu stopped. He was snickering - his eyes were hollow, and some other consciousness rested behind them. This was not the Kaworu I -  
  
PAIN.  
  
I had felt pain before, but it was nothing in comparison. Kaworu was raking fingernails through my flesh, shattering my reverie.  
  
"Lillim, lillim. Don't you know how much Angels hate you? Did you forget, child, who I was?"  
  
Inhumanly strong hands tore open my chest. I gurgled out a scream - what was happening? Why? Why? Why?  
  
Familiar liquid trailed from my eyes - and increased when he laughed at the sight and easily gouged another hole in my battered body.  
  
How can I suffer pain here? How? Was this not death - with no body, how can I feel?  
  
My beliefs didn't matter here. You don't need to believe in a body or pain for it to be real.  
  
I gasped for the breath I needed to sob - wasn't I even allowed to cry?  
  
I hated rejection, and this was, to my mind, the worst form of it - Kaworu tearing me apart. I didn't deserve the heaven I had been experiencing, but no one deserved the hell I felt now. I would not wish it on the blackest soul, for they could not possibly deserve it.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
Perhaps I did. I had killed him, hadn't I?  
  
"You deserve it." Kaworu hissed, grinning savagely, guessing my thoughts, "You deserve it."  
  
I deserved it.  
  
I deserved. Yes. I was scum. Scum. Here was an angel that I had dared to love, and even he told me so. Angels do not lie.  
  
I tried - tried to bear the pain. But God, (who must hate me too - what had I done to deserve his love, either? Scum.. I was scum..).it HURT!!!  
  
Within my rapidly deteriorating chest, my heart keened in a pain greater than even the physical one.  
  
He hate you. He hates you. He hates -  
  
I deserved it. I'm sorry!  
  
I'm sorry!  
  
I'm sorry!  
  
"I'm sorry!" I spoke this last one aloud, and was rewarded with a cold laugh..  
  
"No you aren't. You aren't sorry enough, Lillim!" A pale, beautiful hand.. A soft hand. slapped my cheek hard enough that it brought skin off with it.  
  
I was never going to be sorry enough.  
  
But I was so, so sorry..  
  
I'm scum.  
  
Scum..  
  
So sorry.  
  
Sorry.  
  
And as this was not the physical word, really, (wherever I was), my body did not black out from the shock or the pain or the loss of blood.  
  
Lying there, among my blood and feathers, I took each deserved strike.  
  
It was not going to end. You can not die twice.  
  
And Kaworu dug fingers into one eye as the other one cried.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Sorry.. 


End file.
